For Better or Worse
by RightToRemainSilent
Summary: It's almost six months after losing Sam when Dean first catches a glimpse of him, but Sam can't be back. Because Sam would've come looking for him. Wouldn't he? :postS5 AU angst:


Putting this back up. It was up a while ago, and then I took it down. But now I'm putting it back. Because I'm fickle like that. And I have sort of revised bits of it. Written before S6 aired in the UK, so it's AU/post S5.  
>More DeanAngst, because I seem to be writing very little else. Sigh. Could be considered a sort of sequel to my other Dean-centric angst fest, <em>Broken.<em> But could be read stand alone too.

**Disclaimer: **The boys aren't mine. Sadly.

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><p><strong>For Better or Worse<strong>

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><p>It's almost six months after losing Sam when Dean first catches a glimpse of him. At first, he hopes it's just a trick of the light, because he doesn't want the disappointment of reality when it turns out it's not him. It can't be him. Dean saw him fall into the pit, saw him throw himself over the edge and he knows he can't have got out of that.<p>

God knows he's talked to Cas about it long enough and if an _Angel of the Lord_ can't free his brother then he's damn sure he can't get out on his own.

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><p>The second time he sees him Dean knows it can't be coincidence. He's sitting in a diner, drinking coffee despite the fact he can't stand the thing, just to stop himself falling asleep. With sleep comes unwanted memories, and he doesn't want to remember. Cas says the dreams will pass, but it's been close to eight months now and they're as bad as ever.<p>

Across the street from the diner, standing in the small dent between two buildings, he's almost certain of what he sees. He couldn't mistake his brother's eyes, especially when they're staring right at him, right now, and even though he doesn't want to be let down as he knows he will, he gets up from his booth and slips out into the night. He leaves the required change on the table.

The night air is cool on his face and he frowns, searching the streetlamp glow for that face, but it's gone. Unreasonable panic rises in his chest and he starts at a brisk walk, scanning the stores, the alleys, anything, even the parked cars for a sign of Sam.

Nothing. Just like that, he's gone again. Dean's not sure if he prefers this to if Sam had been there. Would he still be his brother, or would hell have changed him like it changed Dean? He knows that change wouldn't be for the better.

He decides it's best that Sam's not really there, that it's just the lack of sleep getting to him, making him see what his soul aches for. But there's a part of him, swamped by doubt and uncertainty, that whispers constantly to him; what if Sam's out there? What if he _is_ back?

But of course, Sam can't be back. Because Sam would've come looking for him, if he'd got out of the pit. Sam wouldn't just let him go on like this, sleep walking through the job, not knowing what to do with himself any more. He wouldn't.

_Sam wouldn't do that._

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><p>Castiel frowns at him. "It's almost a year since Sam's passing, Dean."<p>

Dean leans over the bridge, staring down at the waters below. It's not a very specific bridge to most people, hardly worth a second glance, but it's part of the first hunt the brothers did after being reunited, and though Dean hasn't told Cas that it has an unlikely soft spot in his heart. The raging waters remind him of Sam, and he's not sure why. "I know."

"You cannot possibly have seen—"

"I know."

Cas is silent. "And yet you are sure?" Dean throws him a sidelong glance, and Cas gets more from that than words. The angel merely nods, and looks down at the river.

Dean knew Cas wouldn't believe him. He's trying to, but Dean knows Castiel thinks he's just seeing things because of what he's feeling. Blames it on _grief, guilt, anger_; anything other than the truth.

Because Dean knows now, knows for sure, that he's seen Sam. Twice since the diner, a total of four times since the pit opened up. "I saw him, Cas." What he can't fathom, what really hurts, is that Sam hasn't contacted him; a phonecall, an email, hell, a text would be good enough. He likes to think that maybe there's something stopping him, that maybe the demons have his brother on a leash or something. And yet there's that voice again, murmuring his fears. _Perhaps Sam is staying away out of choice_.

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><p>The guilt almost outweighs the sadness. If he'd done something different, if he'd agreed to Michael's demands, maybe his brother could've been saved. If he'd only been <em>quicker, cleverer, better<em>. So many things crowd his mind it's hard to think straight. Cas is worried, in his own way, and Dean knows. But he can't let himself believe what Cas wants him to believe. He can't let go of the frail strand of hope that somewhere, maybe, Sam is alive.

And then he sees him again.

He blinks, expecting him to vanish into thin air or disappear down an alley or wherever the hell he went the last handful of times, but he doesn't. Where is there to go? Dean's in his own motel room, for God's sake. He wonders why he didn't hear the door click open while he was in the bathroom, but Sam's always been better at the stealth side of things.

He's standing by the door, something not quite a smile – it's too sad to be a smile – pulling at his lips. "Dean."

"S…Sammy?" He stumbles over the word, such a simple word but it's been over a year since he's said it and it feels strange in his mouth. He's frowning, not sure he trusts his eyes, because Cas said it wasn't possible and yet here he is. Sam's back. "What…? How… how did you get out?" It's not the first thing he wants to say, but it pushes past the emotional sentiments and spills from his mouth before he can think it over. So many more questions long to be asked, but Dean keeps a lid on them for now. Especially the one concerning Sam's whereabouts.

Sam's eyes darken with something Dean can't place, but he's not certain he'd like it if he recognised it. Sam might be back, but Dean isn't sure he can trust him. It's hard to believe Lucifer would let him go, no strings attached, and Dean would love to believe it was so easy; but the hunter in him says to be wary, to watch his back as if Sam's the enemy.

And then the darkness is gone, and Sam lets the smallest of smiles appear. "I don't know. I wish I did, but I don't. I'm just… back."

Awkwardness shrouds them, and Dean wishes he felt comfortable enough to say what he really feels, but he doesn't, never did, so he settles for the closest thing. "I missed you, man." Hotness bristles behind his eyes, and he swallows roughly. "I... I missed you a lot."

For a moment, his brother looks like he did before Hell snatched him away. He looks like the old Sammy Winchester, who had dreams of becoming a lawyer, getting married, but that ghost is gone as soon as it came. "I missed you too, Dean."

That's all it takes for Dean to shut away the doubts, to block out the continual whisper of _something's not right, this shouldn't be happening,_ at least for the time being, and he closes the distance between them with five paces, pulling the brother he'd lost into a hug. He holds onto him like a drowning man clings to driftwood. Sam hugs back, and Dean doesn't want to let go, afraid that if he does his brother will fade away and be lost to him again. When he does relinquish his hold, and pushes Sam to arms length, he studies him closely. Sam hasn't changed, not physically, but there's definitely something different, something haunting him. Dean knows what Hell can do to a person, and he's more than willing to pin all of the changes on that, but he can't help but think that maybe there's something wrong, that maybe he's not the one Cas should be worried about, that maybe Sam isn't Sam. He stops thinking that almost as soon as he starts, because the feeling of distrusting his own brother doesn't sit right in his chest, and so he smiles again. He'll have to get used to that, too.

Because Sammy's back; _for better or for worse._


End file.
